The Savior
by TheArtist67
Summary: "They said I was different, possibly just another way of saying I'm insane." "I don't care to use it. I'll never get out of this white room anyways." "Miss Prior, I doubt it has ever occurred to you that you cannot fix death." "He was beautiful, leaving me breathless. "Tris, I'm here to help you."" ""You traitor," I hissed."
1. Chapter 1

I sat slumped in the chair, my feet barely skimming the floor. The room was quiet except for the thrum of my own heartbeat, pounding in my ears. People came in and out, inserting needles into my pale skin every so often. They were each seven inches long, cutting me directly the neck each time.

Perhaps I should explain myself. Maybe I shouldn't. It won't matter; I'll die anyways. Now or possibly eighty years from now, I'll die. Just a memory floating through someone's head, only occurring for a few moments.

My name is Beatrice Prior. They said I was different, possibly just another way of saying I'm insane. It doesn't matter to me; life flies like a glass hourglass, full of sand and easily destroyed. The needles just slowly make me fade in and out of life, making me replay my memories before snapping out of it.

Each face I see is just blank, colored only slightly, black eye sockets, no nose, and fading pale lips. No one sticks out to me in particular, but it's still terrifying.

My legs swing back and forth, my pale hands lifting up to swipe back light blonde hair from my grey blue eyes. Occasionally I look up to see the metal door slide back and close with a lock.

I've got the passcode memorized to get out of the room 75789932, but I don't care to use it. I'll never get out of this white room anyways.

And those idiotic scientists think I care whether or not I die. _I don't_. I wish they would hurry up and do it, in fact.

"Beatrice?" A woman walks through the door, signaling for me to stand up.

I raise my light eyebrows, looking at the metal restraints on my hands, another reason why I don't leave, but not the main one.

She is beautiful, dark kind brown eyes, tan dark skin, and silky brown hair in waves. She must be one of the only people I will ever remember, due to her striking, dark look.

"I might," I retort, "if you would stop treating me like a caged animal and _let me up_."

Her eyes went cold, sending shivers down my back. "Miss Prior, do you know why you're here?"

I laugh coldly, not letting the intimidating glare she is giving me stop my determination. It might let me die easier. "No, but I'm pretty sure you do. I don't think I'm crazy, but you must."

Her gaze softened slightly and then resumed to a rock hard glare. One that I obstinately refuse to let her shake me. "Beatrice, you're not in here for being _crazy_, although you might be considering your previous actions and having no idea what I am speaking about, but I will let that slip by me for now."

I glanced down at my restrained arms. The stupid metal was too tight for my tiny wrists, and being attached to a wall didn't help besides letting me skim my hand across my face.

"And pray tell me," I say in a soft voice, but it cut through the bone- I could tell by the expression the striking girl wore, "what is your name?"

She looked upon me with curiosity. "If you must know, it is Lee Anne."

I knew I had heard that I'd heard that name somewhere, possibly school, the girl looked around my age.

My gaze hardened on her, trying to intimidate Lee Anne. She faltered her next sentence, her mouth snapping shut, allowing me to speak. "Lee Anne," I say softly, my voice barely a brush, but as cold as a dagger, "what a beautiful name. A trustworthy name, for all that matter, you must be trustworthy. Miss Lee Anne, could you possibly tell me why I am here. Perhaps if I knew, I could correct my mistake."

I enjoyed watching the girl squirm under my glare. I should have some entertainment after being locked in this room for God knows how long.

Lee Anne licked her lips, sitting down in a nearby chair. Watching her sit in the comfortable, cushioned chair made me think of the cold metal table that I had sat upon for hours now. I had only gotten up to use the bathroom, and the toilet seat was more confortable.

The girl studied me for a moment, cautiously as if choosing her next words. "Miss Prior, I doubt it has ever occurred to you that you cannot fix _death_."

I didn't have every piece of information, but ideas were starting to form in my head. They were all puzzles, missing parts that made the image unclear.

"What does that mean?" I asked, my voice stroking softly for answers, as if looking for lost puzzles underneath the couch or bed.

I had been taught how to interrogate at a young age from people looking to blackmail. You never blackmail or yell, but appear calm and in control, but a dangerous temper. I had watched my own mother be sentenced to death as people used this strategy against her, and my mother had no willpower. There is a reason I am my father's daughter.

Lee Anne looked down, her eyes at the floor. It was only a couple more words until she fell into the trap I had set out for her. There is only so much time under pressure until the stone crumbles.

"Lee Anne," I said, my voice a gentle caress, practically fanning against her tan cheeks. "Look at me. I want to see those brown eyes again. I know that there are things more interesting than studying the specks on the floor."

She looked up, despite her inner conscience telling her not to. I could see the conflict between her brain and her body. "Beatrice," her voice was quiet, fearful, "you're a murderer."

I knew that was one of the puzzles I had glued together, the one that had the clearest images, but I had refused to acknowledge it. I didn't want to be a killer so I decided I would never do that.

I remember what happened the night before and suddenly what had happened.

_I stood up from my chair, the metal screeching against the tiled floor. It mocked me as it replayed into my brain, a consistent echo in my ears.  
I walked into the front of the classroom, turning in my Mathematics Test carefully, slipping it into my teacher's hand, our fingers brushing slightly as she took it from my hand. _

_ Her fingers grasped my thin wrist as my sneakers connected with the floor as I began to walk away. I turned back, shocked that she'd done that. _

_ Mrs. Matthews was subtle, quiet but strict. She rarely made contact with any of her students besides brushes of fingers. I had never seen her wrap her hand around any students' hands._

_ "Beatrice," she said quietly. "I need you to sit for a moment while I insert the flu shot into you."_

_ I started backing up immediately, dots connecting in my brain. She was my Mathematics instructor, not anywhere close to Science and most definitely not authorized to do this._

_ "Mrs. Matthews," I said loudly, "with all due respect, it is understood you are not authorized to do this-"_

_ "Beatrice," she growled, and I backed up even more, "would you like to see my files?"_

_ I licked my lips. "Yes ma'am, yes I would."_

_ She narrowed her eyes into slits and started digging into her organized files. I rolled my eyes and tapped my foot impatiently on the tiles. She pulled out a folder, showing me fifty certificates that gave her medical approval._

_ I got down on the ground then, waiting patiently for the needle to enter my skin. _

_ As I saw the flash, I noticed it was colored blue before she stuck it into my pale neck. _

_ It wasn't until two hours later that I remembered what colored needles do._

I shook myself out of the memory as Lee Anne focused on me with curious eyes.

"We've been running tests on you for hours," she said quickly. "A simulation entered into your bloodstream, controlling your mind. There is no way to get the simulation out of you without going to extraordinary means, in which we plan to do."

I stiffened at the word extraordinary means, not knowing what it meant. "And what does it mean?" I asked, suddenly jittery.

"Miss Prior," she said. "Your death date is in two months."

**YAY!**

** Yes, this is a different time set. Tobias hasn't come in yet and I have a little surprise for Lee Anne.**

** All characters belong Veronica Roth.**


	2. Chapter 2

Other girls in my situation would've screamed, protested, but I was not named other girls. I welcomed the death date, wanting to embrace it as tight as I could.

I sighed, "Why can't you make it _any_ sooner?"

Lee Anne's eyes widened slightly before they narrowed at me. "What do you wish, Miss Prior, and the date shall be set. I personally think it's horrid as it is."

"I don't know, six hours from now?" I was suddenly very interested in this conversation.

Lee Anne nodded. "I will tell my boss."

As the door locked behind her, my restraints were set free. It was the first time I'd been alone in hours.

I rubbed my wrist and stood up. My thoughts were running crazy. Did I really _want_ to die or did I feel like I would be doing a favor to the world by being gone?

I had friends at home. I watched them all die, I murdered them. Their memories soared through my head like an eagle digging its claws in my head. They died in my arms, sobbing discreetly.

I fell on the floor, clutching my pounding head. I screamed as the memories flowed through, physically and emotionally hurting me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, staining them.

The memories weren't there until now. What had Lee Anne said? I was being controlled by Mrs. Matthews. Of course she would do it whenever no one was in the room, no one would knock me out. She would want me to suffer.

Alarms sounded through the building, making my throbbing head pound even more. They were vague, as if trying to taunt me.

I saw one set of footsteps in front of my eyes. Male tennis shoes by the way they looked. Strong arms wrapped around my body and laid me down on the metal table.

Dark blue eyes stared into mine for only a moment before I curled up into a tight ball.

"Make it stop," I moaned, "please. This is torture."

The deep voice answered me: "I'm sorry," before a needle pierced my skin.

_Tobias's PoV:_

She was frail and limp in my arms. She couldn't be more than one hundred ten pounds. She had light blonde hair and from what I'd seen, gray-blue eyes. She was pale but had red flushed cheeks from crying.

I recognized her from when we had gone to school together two years ago. She called herself Beatrice if I recall from art class correctly.

She never did stick out much to me, just an average girl. The only reason why I remembered her was from the fierce determination in her eyes. A moment ago, there wasn't any determination, only a yearning for something terrible.

I yanked Christina's arm, a girl who had been taking care of Beatrice for quite some time, and the one who convinced the people to test the girl before killing her.

"I still don't see why we have to save her," Christina says, shaking her head, brown hair flying around her face.

I sighed. "She really didn't deserve to die, Chris."

"I had to lie you know," she says. "I never lie. But she would've recognized me if I said my real name."

I shook my head. Christina had been raised in a strict family where lies were betrayals. "So what did you call yourself?"

The hallways were all the same, but my feet knew the path to the window I used for so many years, a fire escape outside of it. I thrust the glass open and cool air seeping through my bones.

"Lee Anne," Christina says softly.

I knew Beatrice had intimidated her to the breaking point, convincing Christina to say things that didn't need to be said.

The stairs clanged behind us, our heavy boots connecting with the metal.

In two minutes, Beatrice would awaken. She would question us; possibly kill us if Jeanine Matthews activates her. I looked down at her as my feet connected with the snow.

White flakes dotted her pale skin, making it seem like she was some cruel ice princess. I didn't trust her; she could kill us at any time.

Once eye cracked open, then the next. She still couldn't hear us, Christina and I still had one minute to talk.

"Your sister's name?" I asked, still looking at the girl.

Christina nodded, looking at the floor and tucking a piece of loose brown hair behind her ear. I was quiet for the next thirty seconds, watching the girl in my arms. She was probably freezing, only wearing a thin robe and a grey long sleeved s-shirt and some running shorts, the clothes we found her in. She was probably asleep or getting a glass of water when Jeanine activated her.

She licked her lips. I set her on her feet as she glared at me. "Tell me where the hell I am."

I flickered my eyes upward to her icy eyes. "You're safe."

Her face started twitching and I signaled Christina to take out her gun. She screamed and lunged herself at me. "Dammit!" she cried. "I _wanted_ to die and you wouldn't _let _me!" I sidestepped her. She wasn't activated, I knew that much, this was herself. Christina had told me her wishes.

I let her smack me in the face, relishing in the sharp sting. She could do what she wanted with me for now, I would let her. The poor girl had been through so much and she could take her anger out on me if she wanted to.

After the seventh kick she dropped to the ground, breathing heavily, holding her head in her hands. Once again, I saw how broken she was, the way she tugged on her blonde hair helplessly. Christina eyed me cautiously as I dropped to the ground beside her.

"Tris, hey, calm down," I whispered gently. She looked at me with curiosity before wiping her nose. "My name is Four and that's Christina."

She then nodded. "Yeah okay. Just take me away from this stupid place."

_Tris's PoV-_

He helped me up off the ground and I dusted my pants, looking at the girl. She had a gun trained at me steadily, and I recalled her name as Lee Anne, though I knew this must be someone else.

I recognized her now; she had just done her make up, each eyelash curled to perfection. Her brown hair tumbled down in soft curls and I knew her as Christina from my seventh grade Algebra class. She smiled at me shyly, the gun still trained directly at my head.

"Christina, right?" I whispered, my shields finally falling down. I got all my information from her that I needed.

She licked her lips, nodding. The gun wavered slightly in her hand before going still again. She had a direct aim, probably going to hit me straight in the temple. If she wants to intimidate me, she'll aim it on my head but hit me in the hand.

I stepped forward, grasping her hand. The gun's cool metal now touched my forehead gently. It shook in her hand, trembling left and right.

"My apologies," I lied. I really wanted that information and I wasn't sorry that I had received it. A person that had done something terribly horrid should always remember it and never be let off the hook. "I really shouldn't have frightened you like that. I just…_needed_ to know." My voice was sweet and smooth, peaceful and girly. It sounded as rich as chocolate.

Christina nodded slightly. "You're right, you shouldn't have. But I'll let you come with us."

The gun dropped, narrowly missing my long thin nose. I backed out of her personal space before signaling for her to go on ahead.

I didn't realize how freezing it was until we began walking. Four looked at me slightly off the corner of his eyes before training his eyes back ahead. I know he noticed how my hands ran up and down my arms, trying to create friction and how my body was hunched forward, trying to keep body heat. He just didn't want to acknowledge it.

My footsteps were small compared to the humans' walking beside me, but then again, I was tiny compared to them.

Four eyed me cautiously again before focusing on the ground ahead.

I refused to tell anyone I was weak by asking for a sweater. I straightened my body.

Something was nagging at me inside my brain. A memory- a death- from the night before. I was the murderer.

_ I was looking for someone, anyone to kill. My eyes dictated if they were trustworthy or not. An innocent eight-year-old boy was whistling down the street, waving at me with a polite smile. Or was he so innocent? He had done wrong some time in his short life. I must claim vengeance for all those he sinned against._

_ He stopped short and his face froze and whistling stopped as I trained my gun upon him._

_ Somewhere inside me, I knew this was wrong. Vengeance was wrong- the New Testament said so. But my religious beliefs could be wrong. The Old Testament said an eye for an eye, did it not? But it was not my eye to take, was it? I never even knew this boy's name. But at the same time, that meant it wouldn't affect me. _

_ I had to shoot him right in his small forehead before I had any more second thoughts. I looked him in his brown eyes, at his tousled blonde hair, at his small open mouth. He would never forget this anyways; it would haunt him in his nightmares. It would be best if I just ended his short life now._

_ But I had to know his name. Just one piece of information. "Excuse me, what's your name?" I asked, my voice sounding monotone and robotic._

_ He raised his eyebrows slightly. He wasn't afraid of death anymore; he knew he would die anyways. "You have a gun trained at me because you want to know _my name_?" _

_ "Of course not!" I cried indignantly. Even my cries were monotone, which must mean something was wrong with me. "I just want to know your name."_

_ "Alex," he replied._

_ My finger squeezed the trigger and the bullet hit him square in the head. _

"Would you _wake_ up?" Four's deep voice erupted me from my trance. The frustration in his voice proved it had not been the first time he tried to get my attention. In fact, his hands gripped my shoulders and he was shaking me roughly.

A brilliant white light was ahead of us, and heat radiated off of the building. "I'm awake, now please _stop _shaking me. Where are we?"

He grinned at me out of the corner of his eyes. "Well Tris, we're at place with people like you."

It was the first time people had given me a nickname besides rude words. I looked at curse words as if the people who used it didn't have a very extensive English vocabulary. I only used them in pure anger and when I wanted to know something, the words themselves are annoying and threatening.

"Murderers?" I asked.

He smirked as he looked me in the eyes. "Exactly. So come on and meet your new friends."

**So what'd you think of that chapter? I think that the story took off rather quickly and needs to slow down slightly. So there will be more flashbacks and Tris will take some time adjusting at the new place here before they take off again.**

** The story is set in present time (maybe a few years into the future but not drastic change) in Chicago.**

** No Four will not always be Four. Tobias will come out soon. **

** I'm always open to ways I can make the story better if I'm not correct in some ways. Tell me if I mastered the character's personalities properly (okay not Tris for now because she's going to be slightly cuckoo for a couple chapters, but any other characters.) **

** The real Tris will come out soon besides just flashes of her. Fights are coming up, so be ready for that.**

** Follow, Favorite, and Review! I mean you don't have to, because frankly, I'm too lazy to as well for some stories. Just don't try to be lazy? For me? Just kidding. But still. **

** The next update will be soon!**

** If you're a Mortal Instruments fan, be sure to check out those stories! I might have a crossover between these two, I'm not sure.**


	3. Chapter 3

**So Chapter 3! Yay! **

**Chapter 3-**

The inside was as warm as it looked, but frankly put, insane. Children ran around squealing and playing Hide-And-Go-Seek. The ones running around were playing tag. One bumped into me and turned around and shyly waved at me before spinning back and running forward.

I had slight grin. Four looked at me with a smirk. "They don't seem like killers do they?"

I shook my head in awe at the adults laughing, drinking wine. One caught my eye and winked.

"That's because they aren't," Christina said. "They've been in the same situation as you. Manipulated, possessed, you name it. People in the cities, they think they have to kill you; it's the only way to fix you. But we came up with an idea. What if we just took one pint of poisoned blood each day, using diagrams to see the areas? That way, we wouldn't have to kill you, just slowly get rid of poisoned places. Some of it goes away by itself."

I nodded vaguely, looking around. My feet seemed to have a mind of their own as they walked around, exploring. The walls were painted a beige white color. Three couches and two chairs stood in the center of the room. A black rug had brown spirals on it in the middle and a coffee table stood on the very top. The floors were tile, matching the beige curtains but a few shades lighter. A T.V was in direct sight of the people sitting on the white couches. The room had a set of black stairs that led up endlessly in square spirals. A white rug descended down it, heavy and freshly vacuumed.

"Up there," Four pointed a long slim finger up the stairs, "are the living quarters. They're huge apartments, almost the size of penthouses. Only three homes on one floor."

"What about the elderly?" I asked. "Surely they don't walk up that."

Christina laughed, a smooth giggle. "Of course not. In the kitchen there are three sets of elevators, made to look like cupboards. Cool right?"

My feet stopped at the edge of the stairs. I hated stairs but these pulled at me with a strong force, tempting me to walk up their pure blackness. My feet resumed their easy pace up the stairs. At each floor there was a plank and a door. After I counted six levels and fifty-four sets of flights, Four stopped me.

"This is your floor," he said. "Open the door. Christina and I live on this floor with you, the only two in fact." I put my hand on the door handle and pushed open. Sure enough, there were only three doors on the long corridor.

I walked forward cautiously. I don't know why I was so frightened, they were just rooms that I was supposed to live in.

I stopped at the third door.

I put my hand on the knob and a bright light flashed upon the door, the shape of a handprint on the door. "Beatrice Prior," a mechanical voice spoke quietly, "please put your hand on this handprint."

I didn't trust it. Of course it was stupid that I didn't trust a handprint the exact same shape of a normal handprint. I looked down at my tiny hand. What would it do once I put my hand on the door, when it didn't fit the size?

I decided to find out. I put my hand against the door shakily and felt a prick at my hand. I looked down at my hand, shocked to see a nick of blood on it. The door swung open revealing a normal room.

"Thank you Miss Prior," said the robotic voice. "Enjoy your time here."

I reminded myself to walk in the room and then bask in its magnificent glory.

The hallway was painted black. It would make me claustrophobic if not for the light blue, red, yellow, and green splatter painted on it. I looked up to see no light bulb. There would be no way to see as I walked in.

The living room was huge. White leather couches made a U and had red pillows. There was a white floor with a blue square. The floor seemed odd with a reflective glass upon it, shining. The walls were pure white. A wall jutted out, revealing a black and white painting.

Adjacent to the painting was an entertainment system, a television sitting on it with two white stereos on either side of it.

I saw why the levels between each floor were so vast. The ceilings themselves weren't that high- maybe taking up one and half flights each- there were stairs even inside the apartment, painted white.

Four came into the room behind me, through the door I forgot to shut. "Up there is your bedroom, bathroom, and wardrobe. We have clothes picked out for you. Down here is your kitchen, obviously your living room, and laundry room."

I looked at him curiously but suspiciously. He was too kind to me, everyone here was. Maybe they were just doing this to experiment on me. They were taking my blood after all.

"Four?" I licked my lips as he looked at me again, tucking a piece of loose hair behind my ear. Up close, I saw how his hair had been freshly cut, making his dark brown look black. "Why are you all being so kind to me? It isn't like I deserve it."

He cocked his head to the right. I could see his dark blue eyes looking for an answer inside his brain. He eyed me with curiosity, studying my eyes as if I was some kind of interesting mystery novel. Finally he sighed, running a hand through his short hair. "I don't know Beatrice. You _don't_ deserve it if we're trying to be honest here. I just felt like… you might not deserve all the luxury in the world but you don't deserve to die with a guilty conscience."

I looked down at the floor, letting the piece of hair I'd just tucked behind my ear fall in my face again. "Four?" I asked again, still looking at the white floor as if it interested me, "Don't call me Beatrice. I want to start new." I straightened my back, trying to come up with a name before I decided the one he had called me before was perfect. "Call me…Tris."

He smiled a small smirk, I could tell as my head rolled up to look at him. "Well then. C'mon Tris. You must be exhausted. Come with me and I'll show you your bedroom." He held out his hand with a real smile and I took it as he led me up the white stairs that signaled something pure in my life.

They signified new beginnings.


	4. Chapter 4

His hand was warm in mine. It wasn't like Robert's-my neighbor- hand that was always warm but slightly slimy. No, it was warm and fit snuggly into mine. Of course, I kept my eyes trained ahead at the pure white stairs, not to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was thoroughly enjoying this.

The stairs broke off into a hallway. There were three doors, as Four had promised. I opened the first door to reveal a large bathroom that I didn't look at for long as Four dragged me away.

He went to the middle door and opened it, revealing a black room with the same decorations as the hallway did, splatter painted and colorful. The bed was lime green with fluffed white pillows with green splattered all over them. A lime green rug sat on the floor. Right in front of it was a huge white make up vanity with more than I could ever imagine. A pink chair with a lamp next to it sat in the corner next to the window with pink curtains. A black bookshelf full of every book I could imagine was sitting on the right corner. Maybe it was a little girly and would take some time adjusting to, but I could deal with it.

"Close your mouth Tris," Four said, "it's fairly unattractive."

I shut my mouth quickly, my teeth connecting with a loud snap. I crossed my arms like a child. "It wasn't as if I was attractive in the first place."

Four laughed. "No, but now you're just making it worse."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh thanks."

I looked down to see our hands still intertwined. The silence fell across the room awkwardly.

Four cleared his throat, slipping his hand out of mine. "Well I should get going."

He began walking out of the room swiftly.

"Thank you Four," I said quietly and he looked back at me in surprise.

"Don't call me that," he said.

I looked at him with curiosity. "Why? It's your name. What should I call you?"

A faint smile went across his lips before vanishing. "Nothing for now I guess."

I grinned. "Bye Nothing."

He laughed and left the room and I could barely hear the door shut behind him.

I slumped down against the bed, my body entirely on the floor except for the bed cutting into my back. Was I happy with my life now? I didn't know. I had no one there for me. Four said it himself, I didn't _deserve_ to live, but yet I did.

But did anyone really? After the first people did wrong, the world was bound to do everything in awful ways. No one truly _deserved_ to live. But they did anyways, in hopes of redeeming themselves. The funny part about it?

They can't.

**Let me introduce myself to you. I am page break and you are?**

_I was running, pounding through every door, shooting at every man, woman. An infant just being born and being able to see home for the first time was shot in the head by me. Why? Because one day they'll all commit evil to the world. It was my job to exterminate the evil so the good can seep through. _

_ A broken sob came from upstairs. I recognized this place as my home, where so many sins were committed. My brother lied to our parents, my parents argued over bills. So much sin in one household. It has to be destroyed, the people with it._

_ "Andrew!" my mother wails. No human being should wail. They should remain silent and in whispers, not wanting attention because attention is greedy. I cocked my gun, my finger sliding against the little knob. "Beatrice, she's no where!"_

_ Concern and worry are two selfish aspects. Concern and worry shows affection. Affection because you once loved them and that love will slowly destroy you. It was better that I got the destroying done in a much less painful way._

_ "I'm sure she's fine Natalie," my father's voice was soothing. They were arguing, him believing one thing, her believing another. _

_ My finger slid against the safety, flicking it to fire. _

_ My brother flounced downstairs gracefully. Did I really want to kill my family? I had sinned as well._

_ Yes, it will be less evil in the world. _

_ Even against my protestation, memories flowed through my brain. Caleb was pushing me on the swings because my legs were to weak to push themselves forward. Caleb helping me with my Science homework in third grade because he understood it and I didn't._

_ It doesn't matter though. He had done wrong things too. _

_ "Beatrice," my brother's voice was shaky, "put the pistol down. You don't want to kill me."_

_ "Yes I do," I snarled. "I want to make it painful and slow so you can feel every sin you've done wrong. Sadly, I do not have time for that, so a shot to the head will have to do."_

_ I raised the gun as I was restrained. A needle injected into my arm and I slumped and whirled my head around to see a boy with dark blue eyes and dark brown hair, a hooked nose. _

_ Then I passed out._

I woke up screaming. I knew the boy by name now: Four.

I don't why that name popped up in my head. Did I even know a Four? Of course, that name was absolutely ridiculous, why would I know them?

Then again, the room around me wasn't white, and I was sitting on a soft plush bed, not a metal table. My wrists weren't restrained, but free and only red lines to remind me of their imprisonment.

Then everything came rushing back to me. I took deep breaths, wheezing in then breathing heavily out.

"Tris," Christina's head popped into my room. This time, a boy was with her. He had shaggy dirty blonde hair and celery green eyes. He was handsome, but the way his arm was wrapped around Christina's slim waist suggested he was anything but available. Not that he would go for me anyways and vice versa.

He smiled at me shyly, showing a row of perfect white teeth. "Hi, I'm Will. You are?"

"Tris," my voice was barely a whisper in the warm air as the heater came on again at full blast.

He smiled at me for real this time. "Well Tris, it's time for you to see the dining room. Dinner is served!"

I slipped my shoes on and ran my fingers through my hair, tying it back in its typical boring braid.

Christina groaned at me. "You have a freaking makeup vanity! Use it!" I raised an eyebrow at her. I didn't even know how to apply makeup, much less make myself pretty.

She took the task into her own hands. "Will, can you go save us a seat? I have a job to do."

He nodded. "Good luck, Tris. You'll need it."

He was right. Christina showed me every single make up utensil there was. Things I wouldn't care to remember, because, frankly, when was I going to use them?

She applied some creamy crap onto my skin, making my face look tanner. Some weird powder on my face made me look flushed and brown powder was put around my eyes. She used a pencil (a pencil, really?) to make my eyes smoky and adding wings to the outside. Some weird wand-y thing-y with spikes coming out of it made my eyelashes longer and black. She used another pencil to fill in my eyebrows-which I thought was completely unnecessary- and put on some strange liquid thing that made my lips shiny. She let my hair down, brushing through it, and put it up in some curly pile on the top of my head.

"Closet time!" she squealed. Who knew she was ever this girlish? She dragged me down the hall to the closet and we walked in.

She grabbed a skinny black flimsy dress that I refused to put on. So she yanked me and stripped me of my clothes, not letting me go anywhere until I put on the dress.

Finally, I gave in, throwing the scrap of clothing over my head. It actually stretched and came down to my knees. She gave me some tall high heel boots to go with them and I stumbled around the room.

"Now you can look in the mirror!" She shoved me towards and I almost face planted into the dresser. I saw a girl that didn't even look like me.

I whirled around. "What the _hell_ did you do to my face?"

She grinned mischievously. "You like it? It'll grab Four's attention."

"If he even knows who I am!" I exclaimed.

Christina rolled her eyes. "Don't be silly Tris. Look again. There's not a whole lot more different about you."

She was wrong, so completely and totally wrong. I looked like those trashy girls I always hated in school. If I was smacking gum, I would've thought that I was looking at a picture of one of them, not a mirror.

"C'mon Tris," Christina grabbed my wrist. "Be a girl for once. For me?" She batted her eyelashes in an extremely annoying fashion.

"Fine," I groaned, trying to stomp out of the room but nearly tripping on my face as I exited the room. Christina snorted.

I walked down stairs in a hurry, which wasn't very fast considering the heels I was in.

Christina stopped me after twists of decorated hallways. "Wait for my cue." She threw open the grand double doors walking in like a model. I raised an eyebrow at her. If she thought I was going to do that, she might as well be cheating on herself.

She turned around at the middle of the aisle, throwing me a nice smooth wink.

I took that as my cue and entered the room. It felt like everyone was staring at me, but they were all looking at Christina.

Then I stumbled. I fell onto the floor in a heap. Now everyone's eyes were on me.

I looked up, but then realized everyone had already turned back around before I fell. I let out a sigh of fresh relief.

I continued my walk behind Christina, being careful not to make a fool of myself again. She took a seat next to Will. We sat in a nice red booth. It was four seated and Four sat at the other end smirking at me. I made my way over to sit next to him.

"That was one big entrance," he whispered in my ear.

My cheeks flamed in embarrassment as I focused on the floor. "Shut up."

Then I looked back up and resumed my carefree posture.

**Yeah, yeah, crappy place to end the chapter, I know.**

** Disclaimer: All characters belong to Veronica Roth, author of the Divergent Trilogy.**


	5. Chapter 5

My feet tapped on the floor rhythmically. Everyone around me was chattering excitedly about some war coming up. I personally couldn't care less.

People didn't notice me sitting there in boredom and I would rather it remain that way, content in my own thoughts.

"What do you think Tris?" Christina asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"About what?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the burrito that had been stuck in front of me by Four. Maybe if I didn't eat, I could die of starvation.

"Of the food. I think it's delicious," Christina replied with a smooth, calm tone.

Four looked at me and I shrunk back at his glare before I straightened my shoulders and looked at him with a smirk. "Maybe she would know," his voice clipped, "if she ate anything. Did you know here, they _would force_ you to eat your food? You aren't the first one who wanted to commit suicide by starving."

I won't give him the satisfaction of thinking he startled me by picking up my knife and fork and begin eating the burrito. No, he didn't frighten me at all. Maybe it was because I am an excellent people reader or maybe because I am the same situation as he is – hiding things – but I knew there was something behind that big boy act of his.

And I intend to find out.

**MY NAME IS CHILD OF THE L-I-I-NE BREAK! YEAH!**

My body felt refreshed after the shower, finally cleansed and my face didn't feel weighed down by makeup. I examined myself in the mirror. I didn't know that girl in the reflection. Of course she had plain looks like I did, the same ice blue eyes but we didn't really look the same. She had more serious eyes, chilling people to the core. Her blonde hair was dull and dead. Her face had a sense of deep depression in it, carved into it.

It couldn't be me. My eyes, though ice blue, were kind and warm, but shy. They would make anyone feel welcome in her embrace. My hair was average colored blonde, not so dull. My face was bright and happy, ready to be loved and cared for and giving that love and care to others as well.

I lifted an arm and so did she. I spun in a circle, my nightgown flying out around me and hers did as well. I touched the mirror and an arm reached out to me from the reflective glass.

I shook my head softly, running the black rectangular brush through my soft hair. Tangles came out and pieces of hair fell onto the dresser. Little strands in individual pieces showed I was stressed.

The door creaked open behind me. I set the brush down and turned around. Four stood there, leaning against the doorframe.

"Is that really me?" I asked quietly. He looked at me, no sympathy in his eyes.

He sat down on the toilet, looking at me with hard cold eyes. I knew there had to be some softness somewhere inside of him. He had walls just like I did.

"Yes," he replied, licking his lips. "You'll get used to it some day. It took me a while."

I looked down, showing a sudden interest in the creamy tiles.

"C'mon," he said, standing up, "I have somewhere to show you. I think you'll like it."

So I turned away from him and walked out the door, towards my closet. He shook his head. "What," I asked, "you expected me to go in a stupid white and black flimsy nightgown?"

He smirked and waved his hands at me, leaning against the black wall. I walked in, grabbing skinny jeans, a long sleeved black top, a white fuzzy vest, white boots. I grabbed a jacket and threw it over the vest.

He grinned at me before I walked out of the room.

I don't really know why, but he grasped my cold hand, leading me down the rows of stairs.

"Why don't we go down the fast way?" I asked, studying him.

He cocked his head at me, smiling slightly. "And what would that be?"

I hopped on the rail of the stairs and let go of the rail. I flew down quickly and a few seconds after I landed, Four collapsed on top of me. I giggled- _giggled_- for what felt like the first time in years.

His walls were slowly trickling down, I could feel them as his mood lightened.

He smiled at me, a warm smile that looked heartfelt and brushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

He let his hand fall and began walking forward, not looking back to see if I was following. He knew I would out of sheer curiosity.

He led me outside and I pulled the jacket closer as the cold air bit my skin. My breaths of air made puffs in the night sky, clear and beautiful. It felt like a lifetime before I saw the night sky and when I last saw it, I'd only been conscience for thirty seconds.

I shivered, enjoying the night breeze though. It woke me up with fresh adrenaline coursing through my veins, my body wanting as much movement as possible.

Four led me past a street sign that read Chicago and into the woods. I felt thorns poke at my sides, relishing in the beauty of the outdoors. Trees were above my head, towering over me, their branches as if welcoming me.

We went for an hour, never saying a word. Silence said all that was needed, useless glances at each other telling the rest. He stopped at two rocks with a beautiful waterfall at least twenty feet high running water down in powerful streams.

"You know," he said, "we were neighbors. I lived right across the street from you. I watched you get on and off big yellow school busses and wished I could ride them myself. I was homeschooled." He stopped, taking a breath in and letting it out, a powder of air coming out into the cool air. "I watched you with your two little braids falling across your grey school uniform, falling down past your tiny hips. I thought your brother was your boyfriend for the longest time."

I laughed, the sound smooth and none like my own. "Ah, yes, the typical stalker eight year old was staring out the window. So cliché."

He shoved my shoulder playfully. "When we were little, we were best friends. Do you remember that Beatrice?"

I shivered at the use of the old name and a memory coursed through my head. When Four was first allowed to not go to school.

_I had just lost my third tooth at school that day. Normally Tobias would be there to celebrate joyfully with me, being the tooth fairy at recess just for my sake. I waited for him for three days straight before officially deciding to go to his house._

_ So as the stinky old school bus came to a harsh stop, my feet flew across the pavement to Tobias's house, praying he would be home. Of course his dad's car wasn't there. _

_ I yanked on my braids nervously as I rang the doorbell. A blue eye peeked through the eye hole, a young boy standing on his tippy toes to reach the small cover. _

_ There was something wrong with the eye though. The skin around it was purple, a scab sitting right next to it. _

_ Tobias opened the door slowly and I saw the rest of his tortured body. Long gashes ran up and down his arms, the size of a belt or maybe even a whip. He had two black eyes and a broken nose. His arm was in a sling and he was on crutches. _

_ My hand flew up to my mouth. "Tobias," I asked softly, caressing his cheek with a small hand, "what happened?"_

_ He shook his head, a tear streaking down his cheek and over my hand. "Marcus…" his voice broke, "he did this Beatrice. He hit me with a belt three days ago. He told me to tell the doctor I fell out of the tree. I can't talk to you anymore and I won't ever go to school again. You have to leave. Please."_

_ My six-year-old eyes filled up with tears, "Tobias, we're best friends! You can't do this!" _

_ He picked me up, setting me outside. "I love you Beatrice. You'll always be my best friend." His hand stroked my cheek one last time before he closed the door. _

_ I fell on the ground, sobs racking through my body, pounding on the door mercilessly but he never opened. _

_ I did this for six months straight, every day after school and he never answered. I knocked for hours on end, my hopes never rising nor lowering. _

_ Until I just gave up and forgot about him. _

"Tobias," I whispered softly.

**Okay, so this is how I imagined if Tris and Tobias had been friends. Yes, he still older than her, but whatever. It's fanficiton people!**

** Disclaimer: Veronica Roth owns all these fantabulous characters. **


	6. Chapter 6

He let out an exhale of air through his mouth. I studied the sharp, dark blue eyes that he shared with his father, shaking my head. This was the boy who left me all alone. He didn't try to go after me. He just let me leave his life with no protestation.

My jaw dropped in horror. "_You left me_," I hissed. "You left me all alone and now you expect me to _forgive _you?"

He shook his head softly. I recognized that haircut. It was the haircut of our social class. Buzzed to the head, but hair still visible. Women were to wear their hair long but up in an elegant bun.

He was no longer the gentle kid I knew. He didn't comfort me when I cried. He expected me to be as strong as he was when he went through challenging changes in his life.

"I don't expect you to," he whispered softly. "I know you better than that."

"Maybe you don't," I spoke with a biting tongue, storming away.

His hand gripped my wrist as I began to run. It was squeezed so tight, _so tight._ I cried out but the grip only tightened.

What had this place done to him?

What was it going to do to me?

My pillow was drenched. Every time I closed my eyes, memories flashed behind my eyes. They always had those beautiful blue eyes, gazing softly into my icy ones.

I growled, frustrated, throwing my wet pillow across the room. I was down to my final two pillows, and then the mattress.

_That's enough, Tris_.

The voice was Tobias's. Why was everything about him now?

_It doesn't have to be_. _It can be about you. But I know you to well to ever even consider you thinking about yourself more than your best friend._

Four isn't my friend anymore. That was nine years ago.

_He saved your butt. _

I could've sworn I heard that one out loud. I turned over quickly, my eyes focusing. Christina stood in the doorframe of my room, smiling softly. She walked over calmly, sitting on my bed.

I sat up swiftly, brushing tangled hair out of my eyes. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "You heard me, and you know he did. You'd be dead if he hadn't. I don't know about this friend crap you're talking about – Four never shares his past – but he cares about you. You're just too naïve to realize it."

"Yeah, well I know his past and I know he doesn't even consider me," I scoffed, looking down at my hands. "He doesn't let people he _cares_ about feel alone."

Christina's eyes were burning anger and I flinched. "He didn't have a choice, Beatrice. You'd be better off to know that."

Her heels clicked as she slammed the door behind her.

"Nice to know my room is officially a public place," I muttered, swinging my legs out of my comfortable bed.

Cold air hit me, making goose bumps appear on my bare legs.

I walked out of my room briskly, wishing that the closet was actually in my room.

Was Christina actually right? Did Tobias have to leave me? What would've happened to him if he didn't?

I didn't have any mental awareness of what I was putting on until I looked in the large mirror. I had randomly thrown on a plaid blue and white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and white jeans with a brown belt. I shrugged, picking out the first white shoes I found. Wedges. Of course.

I walked down the stairs until I got to the main lounging area. I sat alone, studied my bitten down fingernails.

A figure plopped down next to me. He was well built with bronze skin and dark brown eyes.

I tensed and moved over, not saying anything. He laughed.

"I don't bite," he said lightly.

I grit my teeth. "Yes, because the first thing I think of is you biting me."

He snorted. "I'm Uriah."

"Tris," I mumbled.

It was quite awkward as silence fell upon us. Most people never talked to me, I was too plain looking to pick me out in a crowd. I liked to keep it that way.

I looked up as silence fell upon the entire room. Tobias stood at the height of the stairs, his hand up. I chewed on my lip as his eyes fell on me.

"I'm looking for Tris Prior," he says, "She has not begun training yet."

Training? What the hell? What were they playing at here?

I sunk into the couch, my muscles completely tense. It felt as if everyone was staring at me. Did Tobias have to make such a huge entrance?

Uriah's fingers were pointed at me and he shouted," She's right here."

You don't realize that everyone really _wasn't_ staring at you until they _start_ staring at you.

I stood up, locking my jaw. I felt the room's gaze heavy on my shoulders, but I refused to cower.

My steps were striding and graceful, not failing me. I licked my lips, raising my eyebrows at Tobias. "Training? I wasn't aware that we _train._"

Murmurs spread through the room. Butterflies flitted around in my stomach, and I had to lock my legs to keep them still.

"Well now you know," he said, gripping my arm.

I yanked it back. "I can follow you on my own. I'm not a toddler."

He grit his teeth and began ascending the stairs.

We stopped on the third level and we entered a large room. People were wandering around the room, all around my age.

"This is Tris," Tobias said lightly. "She's new."

Everyone wrinkled their nose at me. "She came from the academy," said one boy.

What's the academy? Why does everyone look so frightened now?

The voice was back now, trying to use logic.

_Well, I imagine it's the place you came from. _

I sighed, running my hand through my hair.

Tobias was now standing in the center of the room. "Yes, thank you with sticking that piece of lovely, obvious information out there."

I don't know why, but the sarcasm in his voice made me irritated.

"Today, we will be working with AK 47's," Tobias said, his hands clasped behind his back as he paced the room, looking at each of us in the room. "Tris, you will be fitted for proper gear and you are to wear it everyday so that you may get used to it."

I looked around. Everyone was in tight, but stretchy clothing. There were multiple knife holders and gun holsters built into the waistband. It was thick, but movable, made out of pure leather. They each wore leather boots, made for being quiet.

Tobias showed them a few demonstrations with his gun before guiding me away.

"What the hell is this place?" I hissed as we got to a storage closet.

"A closet," he replied smoothly and I grit my teeth.

"You know what I mean."

He licked his lips, shaking his head as he rifled through clothes.

"We're rebelling," he said quietly. "The government has become too controlling. We need war to stop it."

I glared at him. "And who said I wanted to participate in it?"

He doesn't reply, just shoves clothes in my face. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of fresh leather.

He pointed to the bathroom and I hurriedly changed.

The clothes weren't tight like they were on the other teens, quite the opposite actually. They actually _slipped _off my right shoulder and I stumbled towards the door, tripping over the too long pants.

I reached the door handle, yanking my arm back against the handle.

The door opened and Tobias busted out with laughter. I glared at him, my cheeks on fire.

"We might have to go to the children's section," he said, making my cheeks even brighter.

He grabbed a twelve in children's and I slipped it on in the bathroom, examining it in the mirror. It hugged my barely there curves and made my blonde hair stand out. The black on it made my blue eyes stick out. I looked paler against the black – probably not the best thing in the world.

I walked out and Tobias grinned.

Despite how much I wanted to, I couldn't bring up the subject of my little fit from earlier. But I didn't have to.

"Tris," he said quietly, his face suddenly serious. "I didn't mean to offend you earlier."

I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear shyly. "I would've remembered anyways."

He shook his head, his eyes downcast. "I shouldn't have done that to you. You aren't strong as you were."

I felt a pang go through my stomach. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His eyes widened and he shook his head quickly. "That's not what I meant!"

Before I closed the door with the heel of my foot, I hissed, "Well, that's the way I took it."

**I so sorry!**

** Not really. I like to torture you. It's fun. **

** If I get five reviews, I'll update before the next update! Then you won't die slowly! For now…**

** I LOVE YOU GUYS!**

** Disclaimer: All characters belong to Veronica Roth**

** Remember: Five reviews and I'll update before next month! **


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